


Safe Together

by DawnsEternalLight



Series: Dick and Dami Week 2019 [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Blood, Fear gas, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, No editing we die like mne, but that makes the snuggles better, everyone gets hurt in this one kids, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 04:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: A fight with Scarecrow goes bad and Dick and Damian have to escape a fear gas filled silo.





	Safe Together

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dick and Dami Week 2019 day 3 Injury/Fear toxin (Obviously I could not pass up the chance to do both)

Dick woke up in a dim room that smelled faintly of hay and corn. His first thought was not an acknowledgement that his head was swimming, or that they were in fairly deep trouble. His first was for Damian.

He scrambled up from where he’d been tossed haphazardly, and peered around looking for his brother. His lenses, still thankfully working, caught the bright yellow inside of Robin’s cape, flipped outward when he’d been dropped inside.

Damian didn’t look like he was moving at all. Probably still pretty out of it from the bad knock to his head Crane had gotten in. Dick winced at the memory of Robin darting to assist him with a couple of thugs only to have a large shovel smashed into the back of his unprotected scalp. He’d fallen like a sack of potatoes, and Scarecrow hadn’t stopped there. He took the shovel to Damian’s boot, stabbing down again and again, like he was living out one of Dick’s fear gas warped dreams.

Dick had done what Damian would call an “idiotic” thing then. He’d allowed fury to overwhelm him at the sight of his kid, his _Robin_ bleeding from his head and being attacked while he was down.

He couldn’t recall how he’d ended up unconscious.

That didn’t really matter, what was important now was assessing the situation and checking on Damian. Dick hurried over to the kid and dropped to his knees beside him, fingers gently tilting his head to check the place where scalp had met shovel.

His dark hair was matted with blood and hay, sticky and plastered to the wound. The bleeding was sluggish, if any. It was hard to tell with everything going on. He’d have to clean the wound to get a better look at it, but Dick didn’t want to waste time with that. What they needed to do was get out of here.

Dick sat back, scanning their location. The room was circular, the walls rusted metal. Hay and dried corn were scattered across the concrete floor. Dick tilted his head up to find the ceiling high above them, rising to a point. They were in a silo of some sort, which made sense, they’d tracked Crane down to an old abandoned farm on Gotham’s outskirts. It seemed like he’d tossed them in the closest secure building he could find.

Damian’s breathing was steady and even, so Dick figured he could risk leaving him for a minute to search for an escape route. He stood, brushing loose hay off himself and made for the perimeter to check for exits.

There was a small hatch in the floor where the silo’s contents could flood out, but it wasn’t big enough for Dick or Damian to wiggle through. Thankfully, the building had been built with human use in mind, and there was a ladder to take someone up to the top.

Dick picked his way up it to find a sliding door, it was on a spring of some sort to keep it closed and stupid heavy to slide open. He had to brace himself against the ladder to get it partially open, but at least it didn’t seem locked. It would be a pain to get out of, but it was a viable escape route.

Below him, he heard metal scratch on metal.

Dick glanced down to see green gas pouring into the room below, some of it already swirling around Damian’s prone form.

He swore, and started climbing down the ladder, taking it one, then two rungs at a time. He paused only when he realized climbing into a fear gas filled space without a mask of some kind was a stupid idea, and he quickly dug out his mask to pull over his face.

He doubled his speed when he resumed climbing down, swearing to himself the whole climb down. He should have wondered why they hadn’t been gassed. It wasn’t like Crane to leave them somewhere the had a chance of escaping without hitting at least one of them with the stuff. He’d hate to miss a chance for ‘observation’.

Dick should have hauled Damian up on his shoulders for the exploration. Should have made sure his brother was safe, not added one more terrible thing to his plate.

Guilt flooded his stomach with acid, he’d done so many stupid things tonight and Damian was hurt as a result. Not just hurt but probably out of commission with the combined forces of a head wound and what had to be severely bruised, if not broken toes.

He missed a rung, his foot slipping. His momentum pulled him down, loosing his grip from the ladder and he fell backwards. His ankle caught in the bottom rung and pulled as his back hit the ground. His breath went whooshing out of him. He took one, two, beats to pull himself together and gingerly extracted his foot from the ladder, sucking in a sharp breath as pain lanced up his leg.

At least his mask was still on.

Coughing got him moving again. Damian’s coughing to be precise. From behind him he could hear wheezing coughs racking his brother’s chest, broken only by a stream of pleas and keening.

Dick turned over and pushed himself to his feet, careful on his now throbbing ankle. He hobbled as fast as possible to Damian’s side, finding the kid curled on himself, arms around his legs, face buried in his arms.

He must have woken up at some point, woken up to a room filled with toxin. This was only the second time Damian had been dosed since they’d been together, so Dick still wasn’t sure how he’d react. Would he be the same? Docile and protective? Or would he lash out this time?

Crane’s toxins could take all kinds of forms, and cause people to react in a variety of ways. As much as he’d like to know how Damian would react most of the time, Dick was glad he’d kept the kid from tangling with Crane as often has he had. The results were rarely pleasant.

“Robin.” Dick said, kneeling to touch Damian’s shoulder gently.

Damian jerked, opening like a porcupine, shifting into terrified motion, all it’s quills sharp and angled for defense. He scooted back, pushing on a foot Dick now realized was bent at an odd angle.

He had to quell fury at Damian’s scream. Crane was going to pay, maybe not right now, but he’d learn that this Batman could hold a grudge for quite some time.

“It’s just me.” Dick said, once Damian calmed down. He reached out again for him, keeping his voice soft, “It’s Batman. You need to calm down and get a mask on. There’s fear toxin in the room, do you understand?”

Damian didn’t answer, just sucked in breath after breath of that nasty green stuff, his whole body shuddering, but poised to leap if Dick made the wrong move.

“Robin. Do you understand me?” Dick tried again, switching from gentle tone to the sharp command of a Batman needing his Robin to listen to him.

It worked, for a moment. Damian turned his face back in Dick’s direction and nodded.

“Good, good. I need to get this mask on you, then we’re going to get out of here.” Dick slipped his spare mask out of his belt and leaned closer to Damian, before slowly placing it on Damian’s face, and securing it.

“There you go.” Dick said, “No more fear toxin for you.” he cracked a small smile, “Can I pick you up?”

One look at Damian’s boot would have been all Dick needed to tell him Crane’s actions earlier had been to keep them trapped at the bottom of this silo. He’d probably planned most of this, luring them out to the farm, and then locking the duo in this death trap. Hurting Damian outright to make escape harder. Dick wasn’t going to let him succeed. He was going to get Damian out of here, and then go after the maniac himself.

“Ba-Batman.” Damian stammered.

Dick nodded, “Yeah, I’m Batman, and you’re Robin, and I need to be able to pick you up to get you out of here.”

Damian swallowed and looked down at himself. When he looked back up he nodded.

Slow, and careful not to spook Damian, Dick reached out and tugged the kid close to him, “I’m going to put you on my back, and I need you to hold on, okay? Everything’s going to be fine, but I can’t climb that ladder with you koalaed to my front.”

Dick shifted Damian to his back, moving the kid’s arms to wrap around his neck, and hoisting his legs up under his arms. He stood, wobbling for a second as his bad ankle adjusted to the extra weight.

Then he began the long, painful walk back to the ladder.

The gas had fogged it’s way up into the room to the point where it distorted Dick’s vision. He didn’t think Crane would waste this much on two people, but the man might also be accounting for the limited amount of oxygen in their masks.

No matter, Dick had to keep going.

He reached the ladder and Damian started squirming, and making scared sounds against his neck.

“It’s okay.” Dick soothed, “Everything is going to be alright. We’re going to climb this ladder and get out of here, and then I’m going to get you home and to some antidote.”

“Grayson.” Damian whined, “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Dick promised, “I do need one arm to help me climb. Do you think you can hold onto me with a leg?”

He felt Damian nodd, and Dick let go of Damian’s good leg, opting to keep the one with the injured foot hoisted and secure. He’d hate to let that flop and bump against anything. It would cause pain, maybe panic. Neither of which Dick could deal with right now. Both were something he didn't want to put Damian through.

The second time climbing the ladder was worse. It was exhausting work with 110 pounds of squirmy Robin on his back, and with a bum ankle. At one point, Dick laughed at the situation. Batman and Robin both with injured feet forced to climb their way out of a deathtrap.

It was an eternity of climbing. Every second wasted was another where Damian’s surprising calm broke away, turning to rabbit quick breaths pressing against Dick’s back, and murmured pleas for mercy against everyone from Talia to Dick.

Hearing the growing desperation in Damian’s voice hurt worse than his ankle did.

“Finally.” Dick said, reaching the top, “We’re almost out, Dames.” he said.

Before he started on the door, Dick switched on the autopilot to the car, telling the Batmobile to move from where he’d parked it beyond the farm to their location. With any luck, they’d get out as soon as it arrived. Added luck would have the car scare off anyone Crane had left to guard the silo.

Dick then turned his attention to the door. It was going to be near impossible to open with Damian on his back, but there was nowhere to set the kid down safely. Dick didn’t trust him to hold onto the ladder or Dick himself, while he was this dosed.

It was a mess figuring out just how to get the door open with Damian on his back, but eventually Dick managed to lean against the ladder and shove the door open with his shoulder against the handle, using his free hand to keep them both from falling off.

He got it open enough for them both to fit through and leaned out, “Robin can you climb out on your own?” he asked.

Damian’s arms around his neck tightened in answer.

“Okay. Okay. We can do it the hard way then.” Dick acquiesced.

To climb out, he was going to have to hold the door with his hand. But to do that, he’d have to change arms holding Damian’s legs. It was tricky, but he managed to shift his free arm under Damian’s leg to hold him steady, and let go with the other, shoving it against the door.

Everything held, and Dick breathed a sigh of relief.

He pushed himself up, wiggling to get out and onto the platform outside. He’d gotten most of himself and Damian out, with a leg dangling inside when Damian jerked, and started screaming. The toxin probably conjuring something new and unexpected. 

“No!” he yelled, pushing at Dick, and kicking at him, still somehow on Dick’s back even as they were sitting.

Damian’s struggling pulled Dick’s grip on the door and it flew closed. Dick yanked his leg back, while trying to keep it open with his arm now shoved inside. Searing pain sent his vision white, and Dick had a feeling his scream was drowning out Damian’s.

He couldn’t breathe, until he could. Shuddering breaths helped bring his vision back, and he found his forearm squished between door and wall. Blood dripped down, as the door had cut through armor.

Dick was thankful the Batman suit had lightly armored arms, or he’d have lost his. As it was, he was pretty sure it was broken, if not fractured.

“Okay.” he said, adrenaline pumping him full of motion, “Okay. Robin, I’m setting you down, scared or not. I’ve got to get this off.”

He let go of Damian and leaned forward to yank at the door, he got it open enough to pull his arm out.

“Ah.” Dick said, focusing on not passing out again, “What a crappy night.”

He leaned back to find Damian sitting beside him, attention on Dick, his mouth open wide.

“Hey,” Dick said, head light, “Hey it’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. I’m calling Al and he’ll get us both patched up.”

“My fault.” Damian said, pressing his hands together, “My fault. My fault. My fault.”

“Oh, no, no, if anyone’s at fault it’s Scarecrow.” Dick said, trying to stop a panic attack, “Robin listen to me, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s my fault.” the words were high pitched.

Dick pulled Damian close to him, and brushed the kid’s bangs back, “It’s not. I need you to calm down so we can get to the car, okay?”

Damian fell into Dick’s chest, and latched on, wrapping his arms around his neck again, and his legs around his middle. It was an embrace of terror, but it helped keep Dick from having to maneuver him into any carrying position, so it worked.

“I’m sorry.” Damian breathed, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t, it was an accident. I didn’t want to hurt you.” his voice was reaching a fevered pitch now as he squeezed, “Don’t send me back, please. Don’t send me away. I’ll be better. I can be better.”

Dick wrapped his good arm around Damian’s back and pressed him closer, “It’s alright, Dames. It’s okay.” he soothed, “I’m not sending you anywhere.”

He stood, and carried Damian down the stairs with the sound of the Batmobile roaring closer.

Dick climbed into the driver’s seat, Damian and all, and set the autopilot to home before he called Alfred.

“Penny One, this is Batman, we’ve had a rough night. Coming home broken, bruised, and Robin’s got a healthy does of fear toxin in his system.”

“I will prep the medbay for you both.” Alfred answered.

It was a bad idea to let himself doze, but doze he did on the drive back. He woke up to flailing limbs against him, Damian screaming at the intruder, knife poised to protect himself and his Batman.

Dick’s arm instinctually squeezed around Damian where it had laid, “It’s okay.” he said, blinking off sleep, “It’s just Alfred.”

It was a guess. A good one, founded in facts, but a guess since he couldn’t see past red and black and wiggling preteen.

“It’s just Al, he’s going to help.” Dick said again.

Damian slumped against him with a sob. Dick heard the clatter of metal against stone as Damian dropped his weapon to switch back to holding Dick with everything in him. Dick had no idea how the kid was still conscious. Not with blood dripping lazily down the back of his neck again, and all the toxin in his system.

Dick looked around him to find Alfred standing a few steps back, unharmed.

“Glad he didn’t get you with that, sorry I was out.” Dick said, then tried to sit up. His arm felt like it was on fire.

“I’m not sure I can get him out of here.” Dick started.

Alfred stepped forward, and carefully lifted Damian off Dick. The kid flailed for a moment.

“It is alright, Master Damian. I’ve got you.” Alfred soothed, and to both their surprises, Damian relaxed into his hold.

Dick pushed himself out of the car as Alfred carried Damian to one of the cots. Dick hobbled after them, leaning against Damian’s when he arrived. The moment Damian had been set down, he’d curled in on himself again. Dick felt a stool pressed against his legs and he sat gratefully, giving Alfred a quick smile before turning back to Damian.

“Hey,” he said, carefully prying one of Damian’s arms away from his middle, “We need this to get some antidote in you. I’ll give it back in just a minute, okay?”

Dick made a mental note to thank Alfred for everything he did with a whole week of vacation. The man was more than prepared for them. He had the syringe of antidote ready for Damian the moment Dick had his arm pulled out, expertly finding a vein and administering the liquid.

“Damian first.” Dick said, when Alfred then turned to look him over. He got a glare in response, but Alfred knew Batmen’s well enough to understand that Robin always came first and arguing about it only hurt everyone more.

Together they managed to get Damian’s head bandaged. After, Dick was strong armed into his own bed so Alfred could look at his arm. Toes and ankles weren’t bleeding freely and thus pushed down the list. Dick accepted this only on threat of being knocked out himself.

He did insist his cot was pulled close to Damian’s. He held his brother’s hand as Alfred patched up his arm, and whispered stories about facing down Scarecrow when he was Robin. He had no idea what Damian was going to remember from tonight, but he hoped that some of the better moments shined through. Especially since Damian seemed calmed down enough now to rub his thumb across Dick’s knuckles as Dick spoke.

Damian was asleep by the time Alfred got to his foot, and for that Dick was thankful. The kid’s foot was a mess. It was so swollen Alfred had to cut the boot off, revealing toes all at wrong, bad, angles. It made Dick’s stomach turn.

He’d let that happen to Damian. He’d brought Damian in on what they’d both thought would be a trap of their own, only to be tricked into a deathtrap.

Dick squeezed his kid brother’s hand and tried to swallow back the acidic guilt clawing it’s way up his throat. It was times like this that he was hit with just how much pain he’d put Bruce through as Robin himself.

Almost every one of Bruce’s outbursts, and groundings made sense when Dick was on the other side of it. All of Bruce’s storming off to beat the stuffing out of a punching bag, and his hurried withdrawals to more patrol on seeing Dick, black and blue and casted. Dick could feel the reasoning behind it all in his bones.

All he wanted to do was pull the cowl back on and go out to find Crane, or some thug to punch. Dick felt helpless and furious watching Alfred carefully set and cast Damian’s foot.

It was a different kind of anger and helplessness than he’d felt as Robin watching his Batman be patched up. That was one of a child worried for their parent, one where all he’d wanted to do was see Bruce up and smiling at him again. Where he could plaster himself to his dad’s chest and kiss it better.

This feeling was one of action, of needing to do something. He was the responsible adult, he was the one with the skills and experience built in to have prevented this. He was supposed to be able to _f_ _ix_  it.

His ankle wasn’t broken, just badly twisted, so after a compress and some ice he was left to elevate it. A scan revealed his arm to be heavily bruised and fractured, it would have to rest in a sling for a while but at least Dick didn’t have to deal with an itchy cast. Both he and Damian would be off patrol for weeks, but it was better than the alternative.

Alfred helped him change into sweats and a tee, and together they got Damian into comfortable pajamas. Then Alfred loaded them both up with painkillers and Dick drifted off to sleep on his own.

He was woken by his shoulder being shaken roughly, and the worlds, “Richard, wake up.” whispered in a hoarse voice.

Dick peeled his eyes open to find Damian leaning over him. He was sitting up on his cot on his knees, looking pale, with his eyes wide. His hair was sticking up at all kinds of odd angles, and his bandage was slightly askew.

“Damian?” Dick asked.

Relief washed over his brother, as his whole body seemed to slump.

“I--I wasn’t sure you were going to wake.”

“Aww, kiddo. I’m okay.” Dick said, opening his arms for Damian to crawl into.

His brother settled against his chest. Damian pressed so close, Dick could feel the rapid way his heart was beating, and every breath he breathed was a brush of air against Dick’s collarbone. He wrapped his arms around his brother, careful of the hurt one, and rubbed circles in his back, trying to rub away any lingering traces of Crane’s toxin.

“I failed you tonight.” Damian whispered, “I got you hurt.”

Dick hated that Damian remembered that. He probably remembered the panic and thoughts of Dick sending him away too.

“You did no such thing.” Dick said, voice gentle, “If anything, I failed you tonight. I didn’t account for the possible dangers and we ended up in a bad situation.”

Damian shook his head, hair scratching against Dick’s shirt, but he didn’t argue further. He shifted so his ear was pressed close to where Dick’s heart was. Dick shifted from rubbing circles in his back to running his fingers through Damian’s hair, washed of blood and straw by Alfred’s gentle hands.

“I’m really sorry.” Dick said, “You got the worst of it tonight, and that should have been me.”

An irritated huff of breath rippled across his shirt, “Do not be an idiot. You had as much control over the situation as I did.”

That wasn’t strictly true, but Dick knew it was Damian trying to comfort him with a little white lie. They both knew Dick could have picked a hundred different things to do, or acted differently while Damian was unconscious, but Damian wasn’t blaming him.

“You were speaking about the first time you and Father fought Crane earlier.” Damian said, hesitantly, “I did not catch all of the story.”

Dick smiled and pressed a kiss into his hair, “Then I'll start at the beginning.”

Damian snuggled a little closer, shifting so he was comfortable, and Dick tugged the sheets over both of them, settling in for storytelling and more sleep.

“The most important thing you need to know about that time was that I was trying out a new cape, it was about the size of a napkin...” 


End file.
